


Roses

by drarryisgreen



Series: Anxiety is love's greatest killer [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Slash, Stalker Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-22 20:04:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/917490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drarryisgreen/pseuds/drarryisgreen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco works at a Muggle bookshop and has a secret admirer</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer** : I do not own the characters, this drabble is written for fun, no profit is being made.

Draco didn’t know who sent them. He worked at a Muggle bookshop; no one knew anything about him. The Ministry had set him up with the job since he had a tough time finding employment in the Wizarding world and all of his funds had been depleted because of the war—his parents were _gone_.  
  
“Another bunch for you today,” Sheila, his co-worker, announced.  
  
Draco groaned. Of course he had to keep the pretence of the fact that he hated the attention. Of course he didn’t hate it, he loved it. The roses that arrived every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday were the reason he’d looked forward to work. They were always signed with the same note: _With Love, S.A._  
  
Sheila reckoned _S.A._ stood for ‘Secret Admirer.’  
  
Every night when Draco returned to his tiny flat he’d see them and smile. He’d lay in his bed and slowly his hand would creep down under his trousers and he’d stroke himself slowly and sensually, sometimes gripping tight, almost painfully with his fist around him. He’d rub his thumb over his slit and glide it down the shaft of the base, repeating the process over and over again. He’d pause to palm his balls or grab lube to add moisture. Draco would groan long and low as he’d pick up the pace, jerking harshly.  
  
He wished _every night_ that someone would come and claim him. It had been so long since he’d fucked someone, or since he’d been fucked in the mouth and he yearned for that contact. _Any contact_.  
  
This went on for weeks, nearly a month. Draco finally took matters into his own hands—the other kinds of matter, that is. He spoke to the delivery man who’d brought the flowers every other day all this time and asked if he could tell Draco who the sender was. The man refused stating, it was through the company and he had no idea. Draco then wrote a letter to the company along with a sealed note for his gift giver.  
  
 _Dear S.A.: Whoever you are, please reveal yourself to me. I wish to thank you in person_ –DM  
  
He received a reply the next time with the delivery of the roses. _I’m afraid--I don’t think you’ll appreciate who I am–S.A._  
  
After a back and forth exchange of notes, _S.A._ finally agreed to meet Draco. They picked a place and time but the man didn’t show up. Via their interactions, Draco had established it was a man, _thank Merlin._ But he never showed.  
  
Feeling defeated, he returned to his flat, as he opened the door he saw a plethora of purple roses all around his flat and in the middle of the room stood—Harry Potter. Draco gasped with shock and delight.  
  
“Oh, how I had prayed to Merlin every night that it were you,” Draco confessed. Potter raced towards him, grabbing him by his waist, he kissed Draco hard.  
  
Draco was able to get all his _contact_ requests that night.

* * *

 


	2. Women are for friendship, Hermione. Men are for fucking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's side of the story

Harry was obsessed.  
  
It wasn’t like he hadn’t been obsessed before. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been obsessed with Draco Malfoy before—but regardless of how he’d felt in the past—there was no use denying it. Harry was obsessed with Draco Malfoy—again.  
  
“I don’t know what to do,” Harry whinged to Hermione who didn’t understand Harry’s fixation.  
  
“Why don’t you just go to the shop and try to be his friend?” she asked. Of course it’d easy for her; she didn’t nearly kill him two years before.  
  
“Women are for friendship, Hermione. _Men_ are for fucking.”  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Then send him roses. Be his secret admirer! Use your powers of stalking to some actual use!” She was being sarcastic but Harry in fact thought it was a good idea.  
  
Harry was intrigued. He was going to win Draco over by showering him with gifts and flowers. Draco may have been too proud to ever ask for help or admit that he still was pretentious and an attention-seeker, but Harry was going to use that to his advantage. He told Hermione his plan.  
  
“If you think he’s still snobby or pretentious they why do you love him?” she asked. Of course, she should’ve known: the heart wants what it wants.  
  
For weeks Harry sent Draco roses, different shades on different days. Red for ‘love’, deep burgundy for ‘unconscious beauty’, white for ‘secrecy’, coral for ‘desire’, purple for ‘being enchanted’, and always one thorn-less rose in the mix for ‘love at first sight’.  
  
The flowers were well received and Draco even requested to meet him. But, Harry was too scared. What if Draco didn’t want him? What if the moment he’d realise it was Harry, Draco would run off?  
  
The day they’d finally met, Harry had broken into Draco’s flat and waited for him to arrive. The flat had been filled with purple roses—he wanted Draco to know of his deep enduring love. Draco didn’t run away when he saw Harry, instead he said: “Oh, how I had prayed to Merlin every night that it were you.”  
  
Harry didn’t waste any time to pull Draco in an embrace. He’d wanted him for so long, after the war—after everything was over, he’d longed for a kiss from Draco and now he’d finally gotten his chance.  
  
It wasn’t long until Harry had managed for both of them to be completely naked in Draco’s bed, coming in each other’s hands, moaning and kissing in unison. The shower shortly after had an encore performance when Harry came inside Draco’s mouth. Back in the bedroom Harry was on all fours and Draco was coming inside him. The only noise being made for a while was nothing but skin on skin and few incoherent words of encouragement being uttered.  
  
Harry hadn’t had such a blissful night in a very long time and the fact that Draco wanted him back—even if the emotions weren’t love at the moment—made everything just perfect.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-


End file.
